


coffee and the law

by questionableatbest



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Police
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-09
Updated: 2015-02-09
Packaged: 2018-03-11 07:17:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3318818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/questionableatbest/pseuds/questionableatbest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"So, Officer Blake, you having the usual?"</p>
<p>"You remember my usual order?" For the first time that night Clarke caught a hint of a genuine smile on the man's face, and she felt pride swell up inside of her when she realized that she'd been the one to cause it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	coffee and the law

"Hey, so I hate to do this, but you're dressed like a police officer and you look kind of intimidating so I'm assuming you're a police officer, and I was just wondering if you could maybe kick out that guy over there?" Clarke stumbled over her words as she leaned over the cash register so that she could ask in private.

"Red jacket?" The officer didn't turn around but the mild amount of concern on his face showed her that he probably wouldn't mind helping her out.

"Yeah," she winced, hating how uncertain her voice sounded as her eyes darted back to the customer in question. "He just wouldn't stop trying to flirt with me and he said he's not leaving until I give him my number and I didn't think much of it but now it's two hours later and he's been staring at me making comments this whole time and it's just kind of creepy so yeah…"

Somewhere in the middle of her explanation something in his eyes had hardened, and when she finished talking he nodded once before turning and walking towards the man in question.

"Excuse me sir, is there something I can help you with?" Officer Blake- was that what his name tag said?- asked, approaching the man at the table and making it very clear that he wasn't visiting out of courtesy.

"Nope, I think I'm good," he replied, sounding skeptical and slightly annoyed as he looked up at the cop with an eyebrow raised in impatience.

"Are you?" Officer Blake asked, looking every bit as annoyed as the other man, only on him it came across as quite a bit more appealing. "Because I'm under the impression that you're leaving. Now."

"And what makes you say that?" He asked, keeping his voice free of emotion and his expression blank in a way that made Clarke nervous.

"Well," the officer said, stepping closer to the table and picking up the still half-full coffee cup that sat on it and subsequently throwing it into the garbage can beside him, "For starters you're done your drink."

"What the fuck, man?" Clarke's admirer stood up at that, stepping closer to the officer who simply crossed his arms, looking unaffected by the other man's outburst. "You can't do that!"

"And you can't sit around and harass people who are trying to work, and yet here you are," his voice grew harder at the end of the sentence, and it struck Clarke just how defensive he was being. "You're lucky she's not filing a restraining order. Or that I'm not taking you down to the station and filing one for her myself. Now, leave."

"Fine, Jesus," the man let out a puff of breathe as he threw one last angry glance in Clarke's direction before backing out of the shop.

Clarke had watched the whole interaction and, as the officer turned back around, she realized that they were now alone in the shop. It wasn't surprising, seeing as how it was 9:30 on a Saturday night, but still.

She tried to make herself look busy but as he walked back towards herself she gave up, dropping the rag she'd been wiping the counters with and meeting him at the cash register once again, this time with a wry smile on her face.

"Thanks," she said, her embarrassment keeping her from actually looking him in the eye.

"It's my job," he replied seriously, waiting for her to make eye contact before he continued. "If he comes back here and starts bothering you, call 911, okay? He thinks he's being charming, but he's not. You don't want to mess with guys who don't take no for an answer."

"Normally I can handle myself, I swear," she assured him, and he looked like he believed her. "He was just being so forward, and this place has been empty tonight so…"

"I know," he cut her off in a voice that was surprisingly gentle.

"Right," she muttered, suddenly wanting to change the subject to just about anything. "So, Officer Blake, you having the usual?"

"You remember my usual order?" For the first time that night Clarke caught a hint of a genuine smile on the man's face, and she felt pride swell up inside of her when she realized that she'd been the one to cause it.

"Well, you do come in here like five times a week," she replied, shrugging it off. "You know we pride ourselves on good customer service."

"Whatever you say," he smirked, reaching into his pocket and taking out his wallet. "The usual's perfect."

"Perfect," she smiled, ignoring his attempt to hand her money as she poured a large cup of coffee and added two cream and one sugar. "Put that away; it's on me tonight."

At the confused look on his face she rolled her eyes. "As a thank you," she clarified, "You know, for saving my ass?"

"No way, Princess," he insisted when he realized what she was talking about, his eyes following her as she grabbed a chocolate chip muffin out of the display case and put it in a paper bag. "It's what any decent person would have done. And I'm a police officer, so it's my job. You don't need to thank me for it, and you certainly don't need to give me free food."

"But I want to," she replied simply, placing his drink and muffin on the other side of the counter and looking up at him with a frank expression on her face. "That is, if it's okay with you, Officer."

"It's Bellamy," he replied, not breaking eye contact as they seemed to find themselves at a standstill. Eventually he let out an overly dramatic sigh. "Fine," he said, before placing the bill in her tip jar and grabbing his coffee.

"Fine," she tried to keep a straight face but the corners of her mouth betrayed her, tilting upwards in amusement at his antics. "It's Clarke, by the way; not Princess."

"I know," he replied confidently, his voice sounding mischievous in a way that made him seem a lot younger. "But Princess suits you."

"And why is that?" She asked, not entirely sure that she wanted to know the answer.

"Oh, just a feeling," he said vaguely, one hand gesturing aimlessly through the air as he took a sip of his coffee.

"You don't know anything about me," she challenged, leaning against the counter and realizing just how much closer they'd come to stand.

"Well, we could change that," he didn't miss a beat, looking relaxed except for the glint of hope in his eyes. "Let me buy you a drink?"

"Thanks, but I get free coffee while I'm working," she smiled, deciding that with looks like his he probably had girls falling down at his feet; she could make him work for it.

"We both know that's not what I meant," he said, somehow making the words sound like a promise, before a flicker of panic crossed his face. "Wait a second, how old are you?"

A bubble of laughter escaped her throat as she enjoyed seeing him squirm uncomfortably. "I'm 22," she replied, deciding to play nice and putting him out of his misery.

"Thank god," he muttered, running a hand through his dark hair and messing it up slightly. "So, what are you doing tomorrow night?"

She looked him up and down then, taking everything in from his uniform, to his more than impressive physique, to his earnest expression, before she made a decision.

Turning away from him, she reached into a drawer under the cash register and grabbed a black marker. She then wrote her phone number on a napkin and handed it over to him, looking up to see a look on his face that managed to be smug and surprised at the same time.

"Text me and let me know," she smiled, licking her lips slightly and noticing when his eyes followed that movement for a split second.

"Whatever you say, Princess," he chuckled, shaking his head and raising his coffee in a farewell gesture as he backed away. "Looks like I'll be seeing you soon."


End file.
